


The Unsinkable

by therogueish



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flappers, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Male Homosexuality, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:31:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therogueish/pseuds/therogueish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson is from the prestigious Tomlinson lineage. Instead of depending on that, he writes for a famous London newspaper, The Star. Louis stresses himself out with his articles, and it doesn't help that he won't leave his house unless it's for groceries, work, or therapy. His good friend, Eleanor Calder, convinces him to vacation with her on the St. Meredith, an old cruise liner with a long list of famous residents, to do some soul searching. He does, in fact, find his soul. However, it's in a very unorthodox place: Harry Styles, the young, MALE butler. 20s AU. Louis's in suspenders, Harry's awkward, and Eleanor's a flapper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unsinkable

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to the first chapter of the Unsinkable! This takes place during the Roaring Twenties (London). I'm attempting to give you the 20s feel, which means some of the words I use were popular at the time! I do not say the bee's knees... ever. Also, Eleanor and Louis will not be involved in a romantic relationship. She is simply a friend.

Louis Tomlinson was a journalist for a popular London newspaper. He made a good (well, more than good) amount of money. Although, he didn't need it. He was a member of the prestigious Tomlinson ancestry. The Tomlinsons were known for their illustrious doctors, writers, and lawyers. They only associated themselves with the privileged. Louis never particularly agreed with their politics, but he didn't want his own uncle to sue him for disagreeing with their conservative beliefs, as idiotic as that sounds. Louis was quite unorthodox, but how could he not be? He was a homosexual, after all. No one knew about his preferences for men, and he wasn't planning on coming out… not in this day and age. A man was recently arrested for simply holding hands with his lover, another male. Louis couldn't let that happen to himself.  
Louis's apartment was quiet. The only noise that could be heard was the sound of his fingers hitting his Remington portable typewriter. He was working on a fresh article for The Star about the coined term the Roaring Twenties. Louis didn't understand it much. Then again, how could he? He never left his apartment. Interrupting Louis's train of thought, there was a rhythmic knock at his door. He cursed under his breath and rushed to the door. Louis looked through the peephole, just to be safe. He might live in one of ritziest areas of London, but there was crime everywhere. It wasn't a criminal, however, but his good friend, Eleanor Calder. Louis's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning, and he opened the door. He could always count on Eleanor to make him smile. "Louis!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. He kissed both of her cheeks.  
"Hello, El," he grinned. "It's good to see you."  
"You too, hun," she laughed. Eleanor had been traveling the world on some kind of "soul search". It wasn't as though that shocked Louis. Ever since they were in grade school, Eleanor had her head in the clouds. Louis supposes that's the reason he can stand her, despite his introverted persona. Now, Eleanor had joined the flapper/feminist movement. She was wearing a short dress that just hit her knees and some kind of feathered headband. Her once long brunette locks had become a trimmed bob. Nevertheless, she looked lovely. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"  
"Of course," Louis responded, motioning for her to come into the elegant apartment. Eleanor followed Louis into the sitting room. Some of his work was spread across the coffee table and some of it was on the floor.  
"It looks like a tornado came through," she gasped incredulously. "You used to be much neater, Lou." Louis laughed nervously as he held the back of his neck. He cleared a space on the couch for them to sit. The two of them sat down, and Eleanor grabbed a piece of parchment off the floor. It was titled, "The Age of the Lioness". She began to read. "While the Roaring Twenties is primarily foreign in third world countries, it has made its mark on Western civilization. One of the biggest changes I have seen is the development of the notorious flapper girls." Eleanor burst into a fit of laughter. If that had been someone other than Eleanor, Louis would've been offended. "Notorious isn't a fitting word, sweetheart! Billy Hill is notorious. Jack the Ripper is notorious. Flappers, well, we're just famous." Louis shook his head at her antics, but still considered it to be a good quote.  
"Do you mind if I add that in my article?" he wondered.  
"Go ahead, darling," Eleanor responded. "Don't forget to spell my name properly. It's E-L-E-A-N-O-R C-A-L-D-E-R."  
"I know how to spell your name, Eleanor. I've only known you my entire life," Louis grumbled.  
"I just wanted to help," she huffed. "You know, you're much moodier than you used to be. What happened?" Louis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't want to tell her about his homosexuality, despite their closeness. Eleanor might be a bit loose with her actions, but that loose? Doubtful. In fact, he still wasn't comfortable his newfound discovery.  
"Work has been stressful. It's difficult writing for one of the most famous newspapers in London," Louis answered with a hint of irritability at the end. Eleanor sighed.  
"Louis, you need to get out more," she decided.  
"I rather not," Louis muttered.  
"Well, guess what? You are!"  
"Eleanor, I don't like people. Their ignorance to the world and others around them gives me a headache." Well, that wasn't a complete lie…  
"Oh, it's not that bad!" Eleanor moaned, exasperated.  
"No, Eleanor. Unless I'm getting groceries, delivering my articles, or going to therapy, I'm not leaving the house."  
"Just listen, Louis," Eleanor sighed. Although it was hard for the young man to be quiet at times, he nodded. "There's a ship coming to London. It sails across the coasts of Europe, Africa, and America. On the ship, there's rooms, swimming facilities, and lots of food. It's like a floating hotel. The ship is called the St. Meredith."  
"Wait," Louis said, massaging his temples. "I won't leave the apartment, but you expect me to get on a godforsaken boat?"  
"Ship," Eleanor corrected.  
"Eleanor, you're a sap."  
"But I'm your sap, Lou," she grinned. Louis didn't mean to, but he laughed. He couldn't have her thinking he genuinely enjoyed her banter because he didn't… most of the time. "At least, give it a thought. It'll be the bee's knees."  
"I will," Louis promised. Eleanor dug through her purse and pulled out a cigarette.  
"Now, light my ciggy."  
After indulging in a few cigarettes and some liquor, Eleanor left Louis to his thoughts. Of course, he began to think about the St. Meredith. He didn't know how he would cope being around a lot of strangers. His anxiety just wouldn't allow that. However, it would be nice to vacation from all the stress of journalism. Eleanor seemed to be confident in him, for some reason. Did she see improvement or just needed a friend to go with her on the boat that left in less a week? To clear his mind, Louis decided to take a warm shower. It didn't help that he had to see his shrink in a few hours. He didn't like Dr. Wright. He was a nitpicker and, while Louis was also one, he wasn't in charge of someones mental health.  
The shower did nothing but increase Louis's anxiety. He still had to go to counseling or some jackass from the hospital would come banging on his door. Louis took a deep breath as he opened his front door. He was faced with the apartment building's thin corridor. A woman was standing outside of her door, searching for her keys. She had a screaming toddler in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. "Oh, hello, Mr. Tomlinson," the woman acknowledged. Instead of helping the woman, Louis fled. He should've done something, but social anxiety didn't care what you should do, only what you are going to do.  
Louis arrived at his doctor's office with time to spare. He had driven the poor cab driver mad with his constant, "Hurry, please" and "Could you go a bit faster, sir". Louis was terribly kind, and that only angered people more. Timid didn't go over well in the bustling streets of London.  
Louis was sitting in a chair in the waiting room. He was reading The Star, the only item of literature in the room that didn't seem like complete rubbish. Soon, a booming voice called out, "Mr. Tomlinson?" It was Dr. Wright. Louis stood up and followed him to their usual room. Louis sat down across from Dr. Wright on the couch. He sat up straight, not wanting his back to touch the surface of the couch. "How are you, Mr. Tomlinson?"  
"Stressed," Louis admitted. Dr. Wright began to scribble down notes.  
"For what reason?"  
"Well, Eleanor- do you remember her?" Dr. Wright nodded. How could he forget the liberal girl that once brought Louis to the office after one of his panic attacks? She gave Dr. Wright and the other doctors a fright with her risqué clothing. "She invited me to go on a cruise with her. I want to go, I do, but I don't know if I can handle it."  
"I don't believe you can, Mr. Tomlinson," Dr. Wright sighed. Louis raised one of his brows.  
"Aren't you supposed to encourage me?"  
"No," Dr. Wright disagreed. "I'm supposed to give you proper advice. That's my advice, and I find it suiting."  
"Well, you're wrong," Louis argued. "I can do it. I will do it, in fact."  
"I don't know. What if you have a panic attack?"  
"Eleanor knows what to do," Louis responded, almost immediately.  
"Does she?"  
"Yes, and, if she forgets, I can tell her."  
"Mr. Tomlinson," Dr. Wright began, looking at his confident patient, "you believe in yourself, and that's all that matters. Your confidence tells me that you can do this. I have complete faith in you because of that."  
Louis had never felt prouder. His old, bitter therapist had faith in him. Just last week, the man was calling him a spineless coward. "How's that for progress?" Louis mumbled to himself. He left the doctor's office and hailed a cab. The driver stopped. Louis opened the door with his shirt and slid in the cab. The driver game him a humorous expression, but Louis was use to that.  
Louis was going to tell Eleanor his decision. Her apartment was on the floor below his. It was a lot smaller, but looked bigger without all the things Louis had. Louis knocked on Eleanor's door. "One second!" he heard her shout. Louis began to tap his foot out of habit. He wasn't a patient person. A minute passed, and Eleanor came to the door. "Louis? What's wrong?"  
"I'm fine, Eleanor. I just thought about your proposal," Louis began, "and I want to go." Eleanor's mouth dropped. She wasn't expecting Louis to agree.  
"Oh, this is just swell!" Louis laughed as Eleanor hugged him close to her. Her touch didn't both him like others did. She didn't bother him like others did. And, yet, she didn't know his biggest secret.


End file.
